


Just A Game

by silver_etoile



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: 5 Times, M/M, Roommates, elippoweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_etoile/pseuds/silver_etoile
Summary: 5 Times Elia Pretended to be Filippo’s Boyfriend, and 1 Time… Well, you know how it goes. Oh, and they were roommates.
Relationships: Elia Santini/Filippo Sava
Comments: 12
Kudos: 108





	Just A Game

“Elia.”

The girl was beautiful—long, thick brown hair, a mouth he could drown in, slim and curvy and almost as tall as he was.

“ _Elia_.”

Her voice in his ear swept right through him, teasing fingers on his chest, the ghost of breath on his neck as he sighed softly, biting his lip against his rising interest.

“Elia!”

Elia’s eyes shot open at his name hissed in his ear, no longer soft or sweet, or even feminine, and he blinked at the blurry image of Filippo hovering over his bed.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains as Elia grimaced away from Filippo, burrowing into his pillow instead to block out the light. Another reminder to replace those pointless wisps of fabric Eleonora had left behind. He kept meaning to, but between Uni and every thing else, curtains seemed of very little importance. That is, until Filippo woke him up so goddamn early in the morning for no reason at all.

“What?” Elia groaned finally when Filippo didn’t leave his room. Even though it had only been a few months, he thought he and Filippo had established some sort of unspoken boundaries when it came to being roommates—mainly not barging into Elia’s room when he wasn’t even awake.

“I need a favor,” Filippo said, and he was whispering, which made Elia already regret what he said next.

“What?”

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Elia’s eyes opened wider at that, far more awake than he’d been a minute ago, rolling over onto his back to stare at Filippo. “ _What?_ ”

Sighing, Filippo rolled his eyes as though this was all a terrible inconvenience, and Elia had to agree. He’d been out late last night with the boys, practically crawled in and hadn’t even noticed whether or not Filippo had been there.

“There’s a guy out there _making me breakfast_ ,” Filippo said, as if it was the worst thing in the world. Breakfast didn’t sound too bad to Elia at the moment and he almost asked what he was making, but Filippo went on. “And he won’t take a hint. I need you to sneak out the front door, then come back in and be my jealous boyfriend.”

For a second, Elia merely stared at Filippo. It was too fucking early for this.

“Filo,” he said, shaking his head, and Filippo grabbed his arm gently.

“If you do this, I will do the dishes for the rest of the month.” 

Elia hesitated, frowning, and Filippo grimaced.

“Fine, two months. Please?” 

It wasn’t often that Filippo asked Elia to do anything that didn’t involve cleaning or drinking, so Elia sighed as he threw off the covers.

“You owe me.”

“Yes, thank you!” Filippo lit up, hurrying to the door and peeking out. “I’ll keep him busy in the kitchen while you sneak out the front.”

Elia was sure this was a terrible idea as he pulled on the first pieces of clothing he could find and headed for the living room. He could hear voices in the kitchen, Filippo laughing that fake laugh of his when people weren’t actually funny. Shaking his head, Elia scrubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes as he snuck out the front door and paused in the hall.

He had no idea how these things happened, but Elia sighed as he braced himself for whatever came next and knocked as loudly as he could on the door.

He supposed it was just what came with living with Filippo as the door opened and Filippo grinned at him.

“Babe!” he practically yelped, so loud it made Elia blink, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

At Filippo’s meaningful look, Elia stepped inside and drew himself together, hoping he had enough mental capacity for this so early.

“I thought we were meeting for breakfast, remember?” he said, raising his voice slightly at Filippo’s look.

It was then that a guy’s head popped out from the kitchen, and Filippo jerked his chin ever so slightly in his direction.

“Who’s this?” Elia asked, feeling stiff and stupid as Filippo turned to the guy, who looked more than a little confused. Elia could emphasize.

“Uh, no one,” Filippo said, entirely unconvincing, and Elia felt an elbow in his side.

“Did you sleep with this guy?” Elia demanded, seemingly surprising even Filippo as his eyebrows went up.

“Of course not, babe,” Filippo said, reaching for Elia’s face, shaking his head. “He’s just, uh, uh—”

“Uh, what?” Elia repeated, trying to sound angry. “Trying to steal my boyfriend? Did you tell him you had a boyfriend?”

“It’s nothing,” Filippo said, and Elia turned to the guy instead, who was grimacing.

“Yeah, I should go,” he mumbled as Elia stared him down.

He wasn’t particularly attractive, Elia thought as the guy scrambled back to Filippo’s bedroom. Definitely not someone Elia would have chosen to take home, but then again, he wasn’t Filippo. Elia hadn’t quite figured out Filippo’s taste in guys. They seemed to vary, or maybe it was just whoever was available for the night.

Filippo sighed beside him. “Not bad.”

“Well, you did just wake me up from a really good dream.”

Filippo smirked as he watched Elia. “I bet.”

Elia opened his mouth to argue that it hadn’t been that kind of dream, despite the fact that it definitely had been, but the guy appeared around the corner and Elia didn’t get a chance to formulate what to do next when Filippo grabbed him and kissed him.

It was more the shock of the kiss than anything that made Elia freeze. He’d kissed guys before—had made out with several at those gay clubs he’d gone to with Martino and Nico—but he’d never made out Filippo. His roommate. The guy he’d seen wrapped in a weird puffy bathrobe drinking tea like a grandmother.

Elia could only blink as Filippo pulled back, giving his shoulder a smack.

“Baby, at least wait until we’re alone,” he teased, and Elia hoped he didn’t look too deer-in-headlights as the guy seemed to shrink in the hall and skirt around them instead.

“I, I—bye,” he muttered finally, practically high-tailing it out the front door.

“Thank God,” Filippo said as the door shut behind him. “I thought he was never going to leave.”

Licking his lips, Elia could still taste the espresso from Filippo’s tongue in his mouth. It was a strange feeling and he shook it away as Filippo headed for the kitchen, entirely unconcerned with what had just happened.

“Is that how you get rid of all your bad dates?” Elia asked as he perched in the doorway, watching Filippo pour himself another cup of coffee. “Please tell me you did not do that with Eleonora.”

Filippo scoffed. “No. Eleonora played the uptight sister and threw them out.”

“How often does this happen?” Elia asked curiously, and Filippo shrugged.

“Well, you know, he looked better last night. In the dark.”

Elia and Filippo had never really talked about the guys Filippo brought home. Another unspoken rule, Elia supposed as Filippo poured another cup of coffee and handed it to Elia without asking. There had only been a few Elia had talked to anyway, a few that had made it over night. Most of the time, when Elia came home to noises down Filippo’s hall, he retreated to his bedroom with his headphones.

He didn’t really take much time to think about what exactly Filippo was doing—he had a general idea. He wasn’t stupid. But he’d never bothered to wonder why they were all gone in the morning.

“He was a good kisser, though,” Filippo said thoughtfully, almost reminiscently. “Better than you anyway.”

“Hey!” Elia protested, insulted. “You caught me off-guard.”

Filippo shrugged. “You could stand to loosen up is all I’m saying. Making out is supposed to be fun.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t ready to make out with my roommate at eight in the morning.” Elia scowled. “Next time I’ll be more prepared.”

Filippo just smiled, patting Elia’s cheek as he swept past him in the doorway. “See that you are.”

“You still have to do the dishes!” Elia called after him, but he knew it was futile as he sighed.

Turning to the pile in the sink, Elia rolled his eyes. Well, he was awake anyway, he decided, pouring himself another cup of coffee and picking at the breakfast that guy had been in the middle of preparing. Maybe he’d just finish up.

*

It had been nearly four months since Elia had packed his meager belongings and hefted them over to Filippo’s place. The room still didn’t quite look as if he lived there, even with Eleonora’s belongings finally somewhat packed away. Still, it wasn’t his dad’s place, and Elia was thankful for that.

It also made it a lot easier to enjoy being at University, knowing he could come and go whenever he wanted, bring home girls and Filippo wouldn’t ask about it, stay up all night study for an exam he forgot about and no one would get on his case about _applying himself_.

“Shit,” he said, digging in his bag as he stood with Gio and Martino at the fountain in between classes. “I forgot my keys.”

“Just call Filo,” Martino suggested. “I’m sure he’ll bring them over.”

Sighing, Elia pulled out his phone and sent Filippo a quick text. The apartment wasn’t that far from campus, although Elia couldn’t remember now if Filippo was in class or working at the moment. If he didn’t get the keys, he supposed he’d just crash at Martino’s place until Filippo came home.

“So are you guys up for that party on Friday?” Gio asked as Elia checked his phone, but there was no response from Filippo. “I hear that Lucia girl is going.” He nudged Elia in the stomach, a shit-grin on his face as Elia rolled his eyes.

“Jesus. We made out once and now she thinks we’re married.” It seemed as if he couldn’t escape this girl, and though Elia was perfectly aware of how much of a catch he was, it still didn’t quite make sense why she’d immediately added him on Instagram, liked all his photos, and sent him a bunch of messages about when they could meet up again.

Admittedly, Elia hadn’t responded to any, hoping she might get the message, but even after a week, she still tried to talk to him every chance she got.

“You’re just like candy,” Martino teased, reaching for Elia’s cheek, and Elia slapped him away. “Irresistible to girls with overbites.”

“And what girls have you attracted?” Elia retorted easily. “Federica, the Frog…”

He was rewarded as Martino rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but have you seen Nico?”

Elia had to give him that one. Nico was pretty good-looking. “One hot guy does not make up for some questionable girls.”

“I’ve seen you make out with questionable girls _and_ guys,” Gio pointed out, as if that had anything to do with this. “At least Lucia is somewhat pretty.”

“Don’t let Eva hear you say that,” Martino said, and Gio rolled his eyes.

Elia wasn’t listening, though, grimacing and turning away as he caught sight of a flash of blond hair coming his way. It was her. He just couldn’t shake her no matter how little he responded.

Lucia wasn’t completely unfortunate looking, Elia could admit, but he had no intention of dating her or whatever it was that she thought making out meant. It had just been a hook-up—Elia had been a little drunk, admittedly, looking for some comfort that Lucia had been willing to provide in the moment.

“Your girlfriend’s here,” Gio teased, and Elia hit him on the arm, but he couldn’t say anything as Lucia stepped up to the group, a wide smile on her face, blond hair tied back into a messy ponytail.

“Hi, Elia!” she greeted him, far too enthusiastically considering he’d left her on read for a week. “How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a couple days.”

“Uh, busy,” Elia said, sharply, as though his brain couldn’t come up with anything better. “I’ve been busy. With school and everything.”

“If you need help studying, I’m pretty good at that,” she offered, eyes wide, hopeful, and Elia shot Gio a look as he and Martino barely held back their laughter. Some friends they were. They didn’t even try to help.

Elia wasn’t sure what she wasn’t understanding. He hadn’t followed her back on Instagram. He’d barely replied to her messages. He walked the other way when he saw her coming. Could she not take a hint? Would he have to spell it out for her?

She looked so hopeful as they stood there, the fountain behind them, students mulling around on the sidewalk between buildings, sun shining down through the clouds, and Elia grimaced to himself. He was going to have to crush her. There was no other way.

“There you are!”

Elia turned sharply at Filippo’s voice behind him. For a second, he was confused why Filippo was there, but then he remembered the keys. His keys.

“Boys,” Filippo greeted them easily as he joined the group, next to Elia, tilting his head to the side at Lucia. “You’re new.”

“This is Lucia,” Elia jumped in before she could speak, an idea popping into his head. A terrible idea, but Filippo owed him. “Lucia, this is Filippo, my… boyfriend.”

To his credit, Filippo’s eyebrows only jumped a smidge as Elia said it, but he took no time sliding his arm over Elia’s shoulders. Elia was glad Lucia’s eyes were trained on him and not on the way Gio and Martino stared, mouths dropping open. They’d give it away for sure.

“Baby, you forgot your keys again,” Filippo said easily, pressing a kiss to Elia’s cheek as he pulled them from his pocket. “You’re so forgetful.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Elia mumbled, taking the keys, watching Lucia’s face, the way her expression seemed to close, her hopeful smile long gone. “I had an early class and you were still asleep. I guess I was just too distracted by your beauty.”

He heard Martino’s snort and resolutely didn’t glare at him. His idiot friends were going to blow this for him.

“I, I didn’t know you were…” Lucia said finally, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

As she scrambled away, Filippo didn’t drop his arm from around Elia’s shoulders, watching her leave.

“I see I’m not the only one who makes bad choices.”

Rolling his eyes, Elia ignored him, turning to Gio’s stare and Martino’s raised eyebrows.

“What?”

Gio didn’t get the chance to answer as Filippo patted Elia’s shoulder. “Got your keys. Now, I’m off to work. Don’t be home late, sweetie.”

Elia felt his cheeks burn this time when Filippo pressed an easy kiss there, clearly teasing, and he tried to roll his eyes again as Filippo left, but he couldn’t quite manage.

“ _Boyfriend_?” Gio asked once Filippo was out of earshot.

“It got rid of her, didn’t it?” Elia asked. He didn’t really want to explain the other day with Filippo’s one-night stand.

Gio shook his head, and Martino smirked.

“I think you make a cute couple,” he said, and Elia shoved his shoulder.

“Fuck off.”

“Maybe we can go on a double date,” Martino went on, much to Elia’s annoyance. “You and Filo, me and Nico. It would be so fun.”

“I swear to God, Marti,” Elia threatened, grabbing his bag off the ground. “If you don’t stop—”

“You’ll sick your boyfriend on me?” Martino laughed, and even Gio joined in. “Filo wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s why you two work so well.”

Annoyed, Elia sighed. He and Filippo weren’t actually dating. Just because they lived together, because they’d pretended a couple of times to get the other out of an awkward situation, it didn’t mean anything. That was what friends did for each other.

“You’re both idiots,” he said as Martino and Gio laughed. “I have class.”

“Say hi to your boyfriend for us!” Martino called after him as he left, and Elia shook his head instead of responding. He didn’t need to explain anything to them because there was nothing to explain.

*

Elia could hear Filippo rummaging around in the kitchen, but he hadn’t bothered to get up and see what he was doing. Probably making a mess that Elia would end up cleaning later. Even though Filippo was still supposed to be doing the dishes as per their agreement.

Elia was supposed to be studying for his chemistry exam, but he was glad to be interrupted by his phone vibrating with a new message.

_You busy tonight?_ was Martino’s message, and Elia glanced at his books spread across the coffee table.

_Maybe. Why?_

If it was good enough, maybe studying could wait.

_Nico wants to go out,_ came Martino’s next message. _Thought maybe you’d want to join. We’re going to a club down on Gay Street._

Elia smiled to himself as he remembered a time Martino wouldn’t have been caught dead there. There had also been a time he never would have invited Elia first.

Before he could respond to Martino’s message, another came through.

_You could bring Filo._

Rolling his eyes, Elia glanced up as Filippo emerged from the kitchen, a plate of something Elia couldn’t make out in his hand. He was never going to live down pretending to be Filippo’s boyfriend in front of Martino.

_If you call him my boyfriend one more time…_ he wrote back, hitting send before Filippo sank down beside him on the couch, kicking up his bare feet on the coffee table, on top of Elia’s book.

“I never pegged you as the studying type,” he said, and Elia shrugged as the phone vibrated again with a new message.

“Apparently you have to in order to pass classes.”

_I won’t. Just come hang out with us. Nico really needs a night out. He’d like if you were there._

Well, Elia thought as he read Martino’s message. For Nico. He could go for Nico. And it wasn’t as if his books wouldn’t still be here tomorrow.

“Marti’s going to a club tonight,” he said, glancing up at Filippo, the stubble on his jaw as he yawned, how he rolled his tongue over where his lip ring used to be. Elia had never asked why he’d taken it out. “He wants us to come.”

Filippo shrugged easily, smiling at Elia. “Sounds fun. You’ll have to help me pick out an outfit, though.”

“Filo,” Elia complained. He was shit at picking out clothes, knowing what was good and what wasn’t.

“Come on,” Filippo said, clapping a hand on Elia’s knee. “I’ll put something on and you just say whether or not you’d fuck me.”

Elia actually felt his cheeks heat up as he stared at Filippo. “What?”

Filippo smiled. “You do think I’m fuckable, right?”

Elia had honestly never thought about it. Even with Filippo’s tongue in his mouth the other day, he hadn’t thought about it. On a surface level, he knew that Filo was attractive. He wasn’t blind, after all. But had he ever thought about fucking Filippo himself? Not so much. Not until this very moment.

“I, uh, sure,” he heard himself say, as if unsure of the answer. It wasn’t a good idea to think about Filippo like that, definitely not even when Filippo laughed, hand still heavy on Elia’s knee.

“I knew it. So come help me choose.”

Elia stared after Filippo as he left the couch, shaking himself, shaking away the thoughts swirling in his head. It was stupid to even think…

Instead, he pulled out his phone and brought up Martino’s messages.

_We’ll be there_ , he wrote, hesitating only a moment before hitting send and hauling himself off the couch towards Filippo’s room instead.

*

Martino and Nico found them first, amongst the flashing lights, the music throbbing through the club, bodies smashed together on the dance floor. Martino had Nico’s hand in his, keeping him close as they met them at the bar.

“Hey,” Martino greeted them, shouting over the music, and Elia nodded in return. This wasn’t exactly the best place for a conversation, and Filippo was busy ordering drinks behind him.

“What’s the occasion?” Elia asked as they shuffled to the side as someone pushed in to the bar. His eyes fell to Nico’s hand firmly in Martino’s.

Martino shrugged. “Just letting loose.”

Elia didn’t ask why—he was sure it was some Nico thing that only Martino understood.

“Did someone say ‘let loose?’” Filippo asked as he turned from the bar with a handful of drinks he passed around. “Sounds like the start of a great night!”

As the alcohol slid down Elia’s throat, he couldn’t help watching Filippo. He was wearing the purple shirt Elia had finally agreed to (more like given up after three different shirt changes, desperate to get out of there so he could stop thinking about Filippo in increasingly compromising positions), and his face lit up as the song changed.

“This is a good one,” he said, grabbing Elia’s hand before he could stop him and dragging him onto the dance floor.

Over his shoulder, Elia caught the smirk on Martino’s face, and he shot him a glare in return even as Filippo’s hands slid over his shoulders.

“Loosen up, Eli,” Filippo said easily when he barely swayed to the music. “I know you can dance. I’ve seen you move before.”

Elia did know how to dance, but not with Filippo, not when just an hour ago, Filippo had asked point-blank if Elia would fuck him. He was sure Filippo had already forgotten, though, even with the way he smiled at Elia as they moved to the music, the beat rattling deep down in his soul.

Over Filippo’s shoulder, Elia could see Martino and Nico dancing, though it was less dancing and more Martino holding Nico close, whispering things into his ear, Nico smiling gently before kissing him. Sometimes it hit Elia how in love they really were, even after two years. Between Marti and Nico, Gio and Eva, Luca and Silvia, sometimes Elia felt like maybe he was falling behind. Or maybe he was just the only smart one of his friends.

“Oh fuck,” Filippo said sharply, bringing Elia’s gaze back to him.

“What?” he asked, concerned. Had he done something and not noticed?

“My ex is here,” Filippo muttered, and Elia frowned. He hadn’t known Filippo even had exes. Did he even really date people?

“Who?”

Filippo sighed, turning them around so Elia could see over his shoulder instead, not that Elia knew who he was looking for amongst the crowd of people.

“You remember Dario?”

Elia couldn’t say that he did. Before he’d moved in with Filippo, he hadn’t paid much attention to the guys he was with. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met any. He shook his head instead.

“Dark hair, tall, wearing a white shirt with green leaves on it,” Filippo said, nodding behind him, and Elia found the guy easily this time. He appeared to be watching them with a frown on his face. “It didn’t exactly end well. He, uh, dumped me. Said I wasn’t serious enough.”

“What a jerk,” Elia said, and Filippo smiled slightly.

“Yeah. We both know I’m completely serious.”

Elia couldn’t help smiling, rolling his eyes, but the guy caught his eye again, moving through the crowd.

“He’s coming over here,” he said, lowering his voice, and Filippo sighed, as though tired, but he shot Elia a look.

“I wouldn’t ask you, but I’d really like to see his face,” he said, and somehow, Elia knew exactly what he was asking.

Something clenched in his chest as Filippo watched him, hopeful, desperate, and he found himself nodding despite the fact that he knew better than to agree.

“Thank you,” Filippo whispered seconds before he kissed him, hands on either side of his face.

Elia was more prepared this time, not frozen like the first time, ready to play along as he kissed Filippo back. Kissing Filippo wasn’t horrible, really. It was actually kind of nice—Filippo was definitely good at it, knew how to tilt his head so their noses didn’t squish together, knew the right moment to slide his tongue in Elia’s mouth. Elia tamped down the rush of warmth in his chest as someone cleared their voice beside him.

“Dario,” Filippo said as he pulled away, though not very far, keeping a hand anchored on the back of Elia’s neck as he turned to Dario. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Hey, Filo,” Dario greeted him, looking between him and Elia.

“Oh, this is Elia, my boyfriend,” Filippo introduced him easily. 

“Boyfriend?” Dario repeated, and Filippo nodded. “Weren’t you one of Eleonora’s friends?”

Elia nodded along, slipping his hand around Filippo’s waist, unsure if he should or not, but Filippo didn’t throw him a look to stop. “Yeah, that’s how we met.”

“We’ve been together, what?” Filippo asked, gazing at Elia so warmly, he almost believed it for a second. No, that was a bad idea. “Six months?”

“Something like that,” Elia agreed, swallowing as Filippo’s fingers traced down the line of his neck.

Dario frowned, and Elia wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t believe it or what.

“Babe,” he said, catching Filippo’s attention. “You promised this night was all about me, remember? It is my birthday.” Elia leaned into Filippo, hoping he would get the hint, and he watched as Filippo smiled.

“Of course,” Filippo replied, kissing him easily, as if they did this all the time. He turned back to Dario. “It was good to see you.”

“Yeah,” Dario said, frowning still. “I’m glad you’re doing well.”

Filippo just nodded as Dario turned and vanished into the crowd. He laughed, though, as he turned back to Elia.

“Nice. Your birthday, huh?”

“It’s in April.” Elia shrugged. “But it could be today.”

Shaking his head, Filippo slid his arms over Elia’s shoulder, only half-dancing to the music. “You’re getting better at this.”

“I didn’t expect to have so much practice,” he said, watching how Filippo smiled.

“I promise I won’t do this all the time,” he said simply. “Although, just for tonight, maybe don’t make out with anyone else in case Dario sees?”

“I would never cheat on my boyfriend,” Elia assured him, joking, though he kind of didn’t want to make out with anyone else as Filippo smiled at him.

That was a bad thought, and he shook it away sharply. Maybe he did need to make out with someone else. Someone who wasn’t his roommate. Someone he was actually interested in and not just pretending to be.

“Good to know,” Filippo said, though, smiling as he pulled Elia in closer. “Now dance with me. He’s still watching.”

Elia didn’t check over his shoulder to make sure, letting Filippo’s hands slide to his hips and move them to the beat. Instead, he dropped his gaze and took a breath. A bad idea.

*

“I saw you dancing with Filo,” Martino said over the music as Elia joined him at a table in the back. Nico was nursing a beer but looked considerably more upbeat than he had earlier.

Elia shot Martino a knowing look. Filippo had gone for more drinks at the bar, and Elia could still see Dario’s shirt in the crowd moving towards him, probably trying to corner him alone.

“I was just helping him out. His ex is here.”

Martino nodded, exchanging a glance with Nico, and Elia was sure Martino had told him about the other day. “Is this, like, a thing now?”

“What are you talking about?”

Martino frowned this time, no longer teasing, and Elia felt something uneasy creep up his spine. 

“You know it’s a bad idea to get involved with someone you live with.”

“You live with Nico,” Elia pointed out, though it was an entirely different situation, he knew. Martino and Nico lived together _because_ they were involved. “And we’re not _involved_. I did him a favor and he did one for me. It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” Martino said, though it was clear he didn’t believe Elia, which somehow annoyed Elia more than anything.

“Seriously, Marti,” he said, shaking his head, glancing over to where Filippo was talking to Dario at the bar, the tight smile on his face. “We’re just roommates.”

“Roommates who make out,” Nico said slowly, and Elia’s gaze jerked to him. Nico shrugged simply, and Elia sighed.

“I told you. It was a—”

“Favor,” Martino finished for him, eyebrows furrowed doubtfully. “Just be careful. Think about what you’re doing.”

“I’m not—” Elia cut himself off, huffing and grabbing his beer off the table. “I don’t need advice from the guy who couldn’t even text someone without help.”

Martino just rolled his eyes as Filippo joined them at the table.

“He just congratulated me on making it six months with someone,” Filippo said, making a face as he handed Martino a new drink and tossed back his own. “Prick.”

Elia caught Martino watching him as he gazed at Filippo, and he shot him a glare.

“We could rub it in his face a little more,” he said to Filippo, mostly to spite Martino, and Filippo laughed slightly.

“I like the way you think, Santini.”

As Filippo took his hand, Elia didn’t bother to look at Martino, who was probably shaking his head. Marti had no idea what he was talking about. It was just a favor for a friend. That was all.

*

Just a favor, Elia thought, tapping his phone against the metal table as he curled in the uncomfortable chair on the balcony, his coffee cup empty, watching the way the morning sun glinted off rooftops in the distance. Just a favor for a friend. 

It had been five months, five months since Filippo had suggested Elia moving in, four since he’d actually done it, and in that time, he’d learned a lot about Filippo, a lot that he hadn’t known.

He knew that Filippo liked to watch old nineties romance movies—classics, he called them, a necessary education for Elia who had never heard of most of them. He knew that when left to his own devices, Filippo would exist solely on take-out not because he couldn’t cook but because he didn’t like cooking for one. He knew that Filippo missed Eleonora more than he said, had probably only invited Elia to stay with him because he was lonely.

He also knew that Filippo seemed to go out with a lot of guys. Go out with but never have a relationship with, it seemed.

Elia wasn’t sure why that tidbit of information was important to his brain as he set his phone on the table and sighed. Filippo wasn’t up yet—he didn’t usually get up until after nine on the weekends, while Elia could never make himself sleep past eight on a good day.

It was going to be a cool day, Elia could tell as the clouds lingered in the distance, autumn coming to a close and winter just around the corner. It was still warm enough to be out in just a long-sleeve shirt, but it wouldn’t last long.

“There’s my boyfriend.”

Elia turned at Filippo’s voice, heart jumping into his throat. Filippo stood in the doorway to the balcony but he stepped out and slid into the other chair at the table. He poked at the plant sitting in the middle, leaves shriveled and brown, soil pulling away from the edge of the pot.

“Ele’s gonna kill me.”

When Elia had moved in, he’d made it very clear he couldn’t take care of plants and that Filippo was responsible for all of the plants that filled the balcony. About half were still alive, which he thought was pretty good, considering.

“Are you always up this early?” Filippo asked, checking Elia’s cup to find it empty.

“Pretty much,” Elia replied, watching how Filippo curled into the chair, one knee pressed to his chest.

“God, why?”

Elia shrugged, looking away from Filippo. It didn’t matter that the light hit him perfectly, highlighting his jaw, the cleft in his chin, stubble on his cheeks, soft, full lips pink in the early morning sun.

“My dad used to say that the day was wasted if you weren’t up with the sun. I guess he thought it might motivate me to… do more.” He had never been sure what ‘more’ had meant to his dad except that he wasn’t doing it. Get better grades maybe, care more about school, stop wasting his time playing football with the guys.

“I think you do plenty,” Filippo said, surprising Elia, and he couldn’t help glancing his way again. “You’re doing well in Uni. You have lots of good friends. And you’ve saved me not once, but twice, from guys I didn’t want to see.” He paused, watching Elia. “You’re not really getting anything out of it.”

Looking away, Elia shook his head. “I don’t need anything.” He hadn’t pretended to be Filippo’s boyfriend to get something for himself—well, maybe the one time with Lucia, but not the other times. “I get to live here,” he pointed out. “Away from my dad and all his expectations.” That was what he got out of this.

“But that’s not enough,” Filippo said, shaking his head. “My friend, Gia, is having this fancy dinner party, and she invited me, but it’s couples only. If you’d be willing to play along for another night, you could get plenty of good food and wine out of it. She’s a foodie. Trust me, it’ll be amazing.”

Elia hesitated. Pretending again. The idea of spending a whole evening playing Filippo’s boyfriend, in front of all of his friends, it was different somehow.

“Won’t they know who I am?” he asked after a minute, and Filippo shook his head.

“I told them I have a roommate but I don’t think your name ever came up.”

“Oh.” So Filippo hadn’t even told his friends his name. Filippo probably didn’t even think about Elia when they weren’t together. So why was Elia worrying so much about this? Why did it even matter?

He was over-thinking, he decided, which wasn’t something he was often accused of. Failure to consider the consequences was more his style. Which was exactly how he’d ended up here.

“So?” Filippo asked after a second, watching Elia across the table. “Will you be my date for one more night?”

Elia paused, and Filippo smiled hopefully as he waited. Well, Elia thought as he sighed, what could one more night hurt? So he smiled at Filippo in return, and Filippo grinned.

“I’m glad you’re my roommate,” he just said, and Elia didn’t disagree.

*

Admittedly, Elia hadn’t ever been in a “real” relationship with anyone, at least not one that involved proper dates—picking out clothes, worrying about what his hair looked like, actually feeling nervous as he stepped up to an unfamiliar door and hesitated to knock.

“I promise my friends are not going to eat you alive,” Filippo said from beside him as he reached out to knock. Glancing at Elia, he smiled slightly and adjusted the collar on Elia’s shirt—one of the few non-tee shirts he owned. “Tonight’s going to be easy. Just dinner, talking, drinking. If anyone asks, just say we met through mutual friends.”

“Right,” Elia muttered, feeling more nervous than he should. After all, he’d done this three times already. What was different about this time?

Everything felt different as the door opened and a girl with chin-length, brown hair greeted Filippo as though he was her best friend.

“Filo! I’m so glad you found someone to bring with you,” she said as she enveloped Filippo in a hug and immediately dragged Elia into one as well.

“Easy,” Filippo told her, practically prying her off Elia. “Gia, this is Elia.”

“Elia,” she repeated, as though memorizing the name, gesturing them inside the apartment. “Lovely to meet you. Come in, come in!”

Inside the apartment, Elia was surprised to find it warm and inviting, similar to how Filippo’s always felt after a long day. Warm light fell over the chic black furniture in the living room, carefully curated art books on the coffee table, a huge black and white print behind on the wall. Gia shut the door behind them as a group of other people enveloped them, and Elia only caught a few names—Enzo, Isabella, Bruno, Pascal.

“Oh my God, where have you been hiding him?”

“I see why you didn’t bring him around. I’d clearly steal him for myself. Ow! What?”

“Keep it in your pants for two seconds, Bruno.”

“Let him breathe,” Filippo butted in finally, taking Elia by the arm and freeing him from Bruno and Isabella fawning over him. Elia didn’t particularly mind that part as Isabella told him he had gorgeous eyes.

“I like your friends,” Elia said as Filippo got him into the kitchen for a drink.

“Of course you do.” Filippo smirked, grabbing an open bottle of wine and pouring two glasses. “They think you’re the cutest thing.”

“I am,” Elia joked, and Filippo laughed.

“Just try not to let it go to your head, _boyfriend_.”

Elia nodded slowly. Right. Pretend. It was all pretend.

“No hiding in the kitchen,” Gia said as she popped her head in. “This is a dinner party. Go socialize.”

“Brace yourself,” Filippo just murmured in Elia’s ear as they headed back into the living room. Elia wasn’t sure what he needed to brace for, but he did it anyway. He had a feeling he was going to need a lot more wine to get through the evening.

*

“I’m kind of surprised,” Pascal said, sweeping back his blue hair, and Elia swore he had glitter on his cheeks that caught the light as Pascal turned more towards him in his chair beside Elia at the table. On Elia’s other side, Filippo was involved in a conversation with Isabella and Gia about something artsy that had Elia lost from the start. “Filo doesn’t usually come to these. You know, because he doesn’t have anyone to bring.”

Elia wasn’t sure what to say to that and he stuffed a bite of eggplant into his mouth instead.

“It’s not like he couldn’t get a date if he wanted to,” Pascal went on, nodding at Filippo. “He could have gotten plenty of dates and come, but he never has.”

“Um,” Elia said, not sure what Pascal was getting at.

“It’s nice, though. That he finally decided to bring someone. You must be special.”

Special, Elia thought as he didn’t respond. More like convenient.

“Hey,” Filippo said from beside him, laying a hand over his as he glanced at Elia. “Pascal, are you being nice?”

“I’m always nice.”

“Too nice,” Filippo teased, nodding across the table at Enzo. “Your boyfriend’s right there. Paws off mine.”

Elia felt an unexpected flush creep up his neck at Filippo’s words, even though he knew it didn’t mean anything, knew Filippo was just pretending.

“No need to be jealous,” Pascal admonished Filippo. “I was just saying how surprising it is that you actually brought someone here. You usually never want us to meet anyone.”

“You met Dario,” Filippo pointed out as Elia glanced between them, and Pascal scoffed.

“Once. For five minutes. I would hardly call that a meaningful interaction. Are you sure you’re not embarrassed by us?”

“All the time,” Filippo assured him, smiling a second later.

As the conversation turned, Elia found himself wondering why Filippo had never brought anyone to these before. Like Pascal had said, Filippo clearly wasn’t wanting for guys. He could have easily found someone to bring if he’d wanted. Why now? Why Elia?

“So, Elia,” Gia said from the other end of the table. “Are you in school?”

He nodded around his wine glass, glad to talk about something that wasn’t his and Filippo’s supposed relationship. “Sapienza. Just started this year.”

“He’s young,” Bruno muttered from the other end of the table, and Gia ignored him.

“How’s it going? I remember my first year. Ugh, I was a mess,” she said, smiling warmly at him.

Filippo’s hand slid from Elia’s hand to his leg instead, and Elia felt himself relax, as though he’d been holding himself stiffly since he’d sat down. There was no need to be nervous. Filippo’s friends were nice. They clearly loved Filippo despite the teasing, and they seemed to like him. Or at least the fake boyfriend version of him.

“It’s going pretty good, actually,” he said. “I wasn’t sure Uni would be for me, but so far, it’s not bad.”

“You’re lucky you’ve got Filippo,” Bruno said, grabbing his wine glass. “I spent my first year sleeping with everything that moved.”

Elia glanced at Filippo, who bit his lip to stop from laughing. 

“Yeah,” he agreed finally, watching Filippo instead of Bruno. “I am lucky.”

Filippo merely smiled in return and Elia swallowed down the flutter in his chest.

*

Filippo had been right about the food—it was amazingly delicious, and Elia scraped the last bit of tiramisu off his plate as he took it to the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Gia said as he set it in the sink where she was setting about soaking the dishes.

“It was really good,” he said, sincerely, “did you make it yourself?”

Gia smiled. “Yeah, cooking is one of my hobbies, or passions. Whatever you want to call it.” 

“I like cooking too,” Elia admitted, leaning against the counter instead of heading back to the living room where Filippo was talking with his friends. “Though I don’t think I’m as good as you are.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear as she turned to him. “I’m sure you have many talents. I mean, you got Filippo to come to this dinner. He never wants to come, even when he’s dating someone. He always says we’ll scare them off.” She rolled her eyes as though the idea was ridiculous. “We haven’t scared you off, have we?”

“No,” Elia said simply. He actually liked Filippo’s friends—the evening hadn’t been nearly as nerve-wracking as he thought it might have been. So far, they hadn’t even grilled him as Filippo’s boyfriend—where they met, how long they’d been together. None of that. They’d just seemed to accept him and welcomed him into the fold.

It was a bit of a strange feeling, a tiny nagging feeling of guilt as Elia stood in the kitchen, watching Gia wipe down the counter and toss out an empty bottle of wine. Filippo’s friends were being so nice and it was all a lie.

“Exactly,” she said firmly. “I think he really likes you.”

“You do?” Elia asked, surprised. He and Filippo hadn’t even been playing up the boyfriend thing. No kissing or holding hands or staring gooily at each other the way Martino and Nico still did sometimes. There’d been a couple times Filippo had touched him, a gentle hand on his back, resting against his arm, reassuring on his leg at dinner, but it hadn’t been obvious. Not the way it had been before.

She tossed him a look over her shoulder. “Don’t be so surprised. He’s talked about you before. I just didn’t expect anything to actually happen.”

“He has?” Elia asked, more confused now. Filippo had said he hadn’t mentioned Elia was his roommate.

“Sure,” she replied. “You’re one of Martino’s friends, right?”

“You know Martino?” he asked, frowning at her. Martino had never mentioned meeting any of Filippo’s friends, but then again, why would he?

“I’ve never met him,” she said dismissively, waving a hand. “But Filo talks about him all the time. And he’s mentioned you. Said you were the cutest of the bunch.”

Elia didn’t know what to say to that. Filippo thought he was cute? He couldn’t help peering around the doorway to where Filippo was laughing at something Bruno said, smile spread all the way up to his eyes. Something stirred in his chest as he watched, a balloon welling up inside him, but he frowned a second later as he remembered what this was.

Gia didn’t seem to notice, starting on the dishes. “I’m glad it’s working out for you two. Filo’s had a pretty bad run with guys, all things considered. I was starting to think he was afraid to try a real relationship again. He hides it well, the loneliness, but everybody needs somebody.”

Elia wasn’t really listening as she went on, watching Filippo out the doorway, how easily he smiled at his friends, how comfortable he was here. It wasn’t the Filippo he’d seen at the club before—putting on a show, having a good time no matter what, dancing with guys he didn’t even care about simply because he wanted to be with someone.

Gia was talking about art school when Elia finally tuned back in, shaking away the confusing thoughts about Filippo, how little he actually knew, how much more he wanted to know.

“You never said what you were studying,” she said, placing the dripping plates in the drying rack.

“Chemical engineering,” he said with a shrug, and she laughed as she glanced at him.

“Wow. That sounds hard.”

“It is,” he agreed. “Sometimes, I’m not sure why I thought it was a good idea, but I just keep telling myself it’ll be worth it.”

“Yeah,” Gia said simply, turning back to the sink. “But there’s always time to change your mind, start something new, do what you really want.”

“Are you giving him school advice?” Filippo appeared in the door, coming up beside Elia and slipping a hand around his waist. “Don’t listen to her. She changed her field of study four times before she finally decided.”

“I take my time,” Gia said pointedly.

“Well, Elia’s smart,” Filippo said, tugging Elia away from the counter. “He knows what he wants.”

Elia wasn’t so sure about that as he felt the pressure of Filippo’s hand on his side, guiding him out of the kitchen, away from Gia.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to let you get trapped in there,” he muttered, and Elia bit his lip, shaking his head.

“It’s fine. You’re friends are cool.”

“They’re nosy,” Filippo replied, “but they mean well.” He glanced at Elia as they passed the table. “Don’t let Gia scare you. I think it’s really great that you’re studying chemical engineering. You’re a lot smarter than people give you credit for.”

“You do?” Elia asked, frowning slightly. It wasn’t that he didn’t think he was smart, but people just seemed to assume he was an idiot because of the way he acted, how flippant he tried to be about life and girls and everything else. Just because he liked to live in the moment didn’t mean he didn’t think about the future.

Filippo smiled as he nodded, reaching up to pat Elia’s cheek gently. “Of course I do. One of us has to know how to use the cappuccino machine.”

Elia found himself smiling even as he rolled his eyes. “So that’s why you keep me around.”

“Among other reasons,” Filippo said, and Elia paused at the clench in his chest at the way Filippo’s gaze lingered on him, just for a second, but it was gone as Filippo blinked and looked away. “So what do you think? You ready to get out of here or you think you can put up with my ridiculous friends for another hour?”

It was stupid, but Elia thought he’d put up with a lot more if he got to keep Filippo’s hand firmly on his waist as they headed to the living room.

“I can handle it,” he assured Filippo, who just nodded with an easy smile and joined Elia into the group once more.

*

Elia was in deep shit.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t had crushes on people before. There had been that girl in first year of high school, that ill-advised crush on Sana last year that had all but evaporated the moment Elia went to that college party with Nico and got a look at one of Nico’s friends, a hot guy talking to Martino.

He’d had crushes, but they’d never been on someone he lived with.

Nothing had changed at the apartment, at least not that Elia could tell. Filippo still wandered around in his bathrobe, hadn’t brought up the dinner at all since it happened, though the question of why Filippo had brought him was burning a hole in Elia’s tongue. He knew what Filippo had said—to pay him back for helping him out, as a reward for pretending to be his boyfriend so many times, but according to Filippo’s friends, it was a strange thing for Filippo to do.

The problem was, Elia didn’t know what to say, or if he should even say anything.

He was pretty sure Filippo didn’t see him that way. He was just a guy who paid rent and took up space on his couch, who watched movies with him and listened to Filippo’s running commentary on how much better romantic comedies were in the nineties, who Filo always poured an extra cup of coffee for in the morning. He was just the guy Filippo smiled at whenever he said something stupid or complained about studying, who pulled a blanket over both of them on the couch as the weather changed and grew colder. That was all Elia was.

“You’re not going out tonight?” Elia asked as Filippo wandered into the living room, silk overshirt billowing as he flopped down on the couch next to Elia.

Filippo jerked his shoulder, reaching for the remote between them. “Didn’t feel like it. You’re not hanging out with the boys?”

Elia shrugged too. “Luca’s off with Silvia and Martino and Nico are going to some art thing.” He hadn’t really been paying attention when the guys had texted earlier to see if he wanted to go. He supposed he could have gone, wandered around an art gallery pretending to be interested when the whole time he was wishing he was back at the apartment with Filippo.

It was dumb, he knew, to want to be here with Filippo, who was just his roommate, who he hadn’t even known would be there. But he’d done it anyway.

Deep shit.

“Well, I hear they just added _Save The Last Dance_ to Netflix,” Filippo said as he turned on the TV. “Quintessential movie about a girl with a dead mom who just wants to dance.”

Elia smiled despite himself. “Is that really what you want to watch?”

“Julia Stiles,” Filippo said, as if that was supposed to mean anything. “And Sean Patrick Thomas. Very hot.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Elia said as Filippo searched for the movie.

“You’ve lived here four months, and I still have so much to teach you,” Filippo said simply as he found the movie and pressed play, settling in on the couch, squishing in against Elia even though there was plenty of space. Elia didn’t shift out of the way, though, avoiding looking at Filippo as he took a breath and tried to relax. It was just how Filippo was.

Filippo was warm, comfortable as Elia tried not to lean on him too much, eyes darting to him as Filippo extricated his arm and set it on the couch behind Elia, falling on his shoulder a minute later as though he didn’t notice.

Swallowing, Elia stared at the TV screen instead of Filippo, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as Filippo shifted. It wasn’t any different than usual, but it felt completely different to Elia, as though he shouldn’t be enjoying how easy this was, as if he wasn’t thinking about how easy it would be to lean into Filippo and just give in to the feelings swirling around his brain, making him stupid, making him want to kiss Filippo for no reason at all.

Just as he glanced up, at Filippo, a key in the door made him jump.

Filippo looked surprised as he sat up, and the door opened, an unfamiliar woman entering with a suitcase.

“Mom?” Filippo asked, sounding confused, hand sliding away from Elia’s shoulders as the woman smiled at him.

“Filo, darling!” she said, opening her arms for a hug, and Filippo left the couch to greet her. 

Blinking, Elia didn’t move. Filippo hadn’t said anything about his mom coming to visit. From the look on Filippo’s face as he pulled away, he hadn’t been expecting it either.

“Were you supposed to be here?” he asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not allowed to visit my own son? I have to give warning every time?”

“No, I just—” Filippo said, and she waved him away, turning to Elia.

“And who’s this?”

Glancing between Filippo and his mom, Elia pushed himself up quickly, reaching out to shake her hand. 

“I’m Elia,” he said, watching Filippo, unsure what he was supposed to say. “I’m Filippo’s—”

“Boyfriend,” Filippo cut in, arching his eyebrows at Elia, and Elia barely held in his sigh. Not again.

“Boyfriend?” she repeated, sounding impressed as she took Elia’s hand and gave him a once-over. “That’s a surprise.”

“Mom,” Filippo said, and she waved him away again. Behind her, Filippo frowned, and Elia wasn’t sure what to do next. Was this a fake-boyfriend-making-out situation or a fake-boyfriend-impress-my-friends situation?

“I never get to meet your boyfriends,” she said simply, releasing Elia’s hand, and he was glad. For a moment, he’d thought she was never going to let go. “He’s cute.”

Filippo didn’t reply, shaking his head instead. Elia felt the blush creeping up his cheeks as he stood there. It was different than trying to get rid of a one-night stand or an old boyfriend. It wasn’t even the same as spending the evening with Filippo’s friends. It was Filippo’s mom shooting Filippo an approving look as he sighed.

“Are you staying long?” Filippo asked finally, and his mom shook her head. 

“Just tonight. It’s a layover on the way to London. You don’t mind? After all, I do pay most of the rent.”

“Of course not,” Filippo said, but his smile was tight, and he glanced at Elia. “Elia, come help me get some drinks.”

“Okay,” Elia agreed quickly, eager to leave this awkward situation behind.

In the kitchen, Filippo didn’t open the fridge, turning to Elia and grimacing.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was going to show up, but she doesn’t know I got a roommate. If she did, she’d probably stop paying Ele’s part of the rent, which is, you know, how we pay for food. I know we talked about giving warning so you could find somewhere to crash for the night, but—”

“It’s fine,” Elia assured him, taking a breath. He could pretend for a little while longer, at least until he texted Martino or Gio to see if he could sleep there. He definitely didn’t want to have to spend the whole rest of the night with Filippo casually touching him, having to make up yet another back story of how they met, how long they’d been together, how things were going. “You didn’t know. Don’t worry about it.”

Filippo sighed, eyebrows furrowed. “You really are the best,” he said, moving forward swiftly to press a kiss to Elia’s cheek. “She usually goes to bed early, so it shouldn’t be too long.”

As Filippo grabbed a bottle of wine and left the kitchen, Elia slumped back against the counter, rubbing his cheek where Filippo had kissed him. He couldn’t believe this was happening _again_. How many more times was he going to have to pretend? Pretend he didn’t want it to be real. Pretend it didn’t hurt when it was over and Filippo dropped his hand, thanked him profusely and went on like nothing had happened.

Shaking himself, Elia drew himself together. He could pretend just a little longer, for Filippo. He’d text Martino and see if he could crash at his place and he’d be out of there before things could get any worse. He could do that.

*

Martino hadn’t replied to his text, and Gio had replied that he was staying over with Eva. Elia couldn’t help checking his phone again as the minutes ticked by and Filippo’s mom finished her second glass of wine.

“You’re exactly like I thought you’d be,” she told Elia, and he tried not to frown.

“Oh?”

She nodded, and beside him, Filippo’s hand clenched around Elia’s shoulder, as though worried about what she was going to say next.

“I always said Filippo needed to date someone who was as smart as he was. A little goofy, not too cool, down-to-earth, sweet and funny. Instead of those guys with the dyed hair and nose piercings.” She laughed. “Of course, he’s never introduced me to any of those. He doesn’t want his mom to embarrass him.”

Elia glanced at Filippo, who was frowning.

“Don’t you have an early flight tomorrow?” he asked, and she sighed, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Yes, I suppose I should turn in.” She paused as she rose from the couch. “I suppose you two will be off to bed also?”

Elia’s eyes darted to Filippo next to him on the couch. He’d known Filippo’s mom was okay with him being gay—he just hadn’t expected her to be _that_ okay.

“Uh,” Filippo said, meeting Elia’s gaze, a momentary question there, uncertainty. “Yeah. Yeah.”

She smiled easily at both of them and brushed back her hair as she set her glass down on the table. “I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave. Elia, I’m glad to have met you. I hope next time I come, we can get to know each other better.”

Elia just nodded, unsure how to answer that as she headed down the hall, waiting until the door closed behind her to turn to Filippo.

“Well,” Filippo said after a minute. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?” Elia asked dumbly, and Filippo sighed.

“You can’t stay in Ele’s room. She’ll expect you to stay with me.”

Elia frowned. It didn’t sound like a good idea but Filippo was probably right. He couldn’t afford for Filippo’s mom to find out they’d lied to her. He might be out of a place to stay.

So he reluctantly rose from the couch and followed Filippo down the opposite hall.

He hadn’t been inside Filippo’s bedroom much since he’d moved in, and his eyes traveled over the scattered papers on the floor, the clothes hanging on the back of a chair, the curtain tacked halfway up across the window. It was so unlike the rest of the apartment, as if it was a whole different world inside.

Elia lingered awkwardly in the doorway as Filippo rummaged in a drawer, coming out with an old tee shirt.

“It might be a little small, but it’ll work,” Filippo said, tossing it to Elia.

“Filo,” he said slowly as Filippo took off his over-shirt and dropped it on the floor as though that was where it belonged.

Glancing his way, Filippo sighed, stepping over to Elia and placing his hands on his neck.

“I know,” he said softly. “If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed. I’m sorry for making you do this again. You must think I’m a complete asshole considering how many times you’ve pretended to be my boyfriend. Maybe we should just start dating for real,” he joked, and Elia felt his stomach lurch.

“Yeah,” he said, forcing himself to laugh. “Wouldn’t that be hilarious.”

Filippo frowned, biting down on his lower lip. “She’ll be gone early tomorrow. Then it’ll be over.”

Elia nodded even though that wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want this to be over. He wanted it to be real.

But it wasn’t, and Elia sighed as he turned his back on Filippo and changed his shirt for the one Filippo had given him. When he turned back around, Filippo was lingering by the dresser, inspecting the floor as if looking for a clear patch.

“We can share the bed,” Elia said, rolling his eyes.

“Good,” Filippo said, sounding relieved. “I hate sleeping on the floor.”

Elia smiled slightly as he pulled back the covers and sat down, only feel slightly awkward as Filippo crawled in beside him. Settling down, he sighed as Filippo shut off the light, casting them into darkness.

“What did she mean by goofy?” he asked as they lay there, and he heard Filippo’s exhale.

“Who knows. It’s not like she has anything to compare you to.”

Pausing, Elia frowned up at the dark ceiling, tugging the covers up to his chest and feeling Filippo roll onto his side away from him.

“Why not?”

“Hmm?”

Elia swallowed. “Why doesn’t she have anything to compare it to?” It wasn’t the first time Elia had heard that, that Filippo didn’t introduce boyfriends to people, that he was the first, and he wasn’t even a real boyfriend.

“Do you introduce your parents to everyone you hook up with?” Filippo asked, and Elia frowned.

“No, but if I was dating someone, I might.”

He heard Filippo sigh beside him, and he wished he could see his face through the darkness, but all he could see was the outline of his head.

“I just,” Filippo said slowly, “I just don’t see the point.”

For a second, Elia didn’t understand, watching the shadow of Filippo beside him. “What do you mean?”

Filippo rolled onto his back again, exhaling a huff. “There’s just no point in introducing anyone because they’re always gone soon enough.”

“All of them?” Elia asked carefully, and he heard Filippo hum.

“Dario lasted a couple months, but we both know how that ended.” He paused. “I just can’t have relationships. I’ve tried. It doesn’t work. So there’s no point in some guy I’ll just break up with in a month meeting my friends or my mom.”

“It’s not your fault,” Elia said, and Filippo laughed, soft.

“Oh, Elia,” he said, rolling over to face him, patting his cheek gently, fingers caressing his skin, and Elia almost let his eyes close at the touch. “You’re the longest relationship I’ve had in years, and it’s not even real. If it was real…” He shook his head. “Well, I’d just screw it up. Now, go to sleep. My mom will expect us to be up to see her off.”

Elia wanted to stop Filippo as his hand slid away from his cheek and he rolled back to his other side. He wanted to pull Filippo back and prove him wrong, that they wouldn’t screw it up.

But Elia couldn’t be sure. He’d never liked someone like this before, never wanted to take a chance like this, and what if he did screw it up? What if he couldn’t figure out how to make it work? Then he’d lose a friend and a roommate.

So instead of rolling Filippo back over, Elia sunk into a swirl of his own doubts as he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

*

Elia woke with a start, as though woken from a sudden dream, but it faded away the moment his eyes opened to the dim, unfamiliar room, pale light shining through a crack in the thick curtain that Elia was pretty sure was just a blanket tacked up over the window.

Taking a breath, he didn’t move for a minute, rubbing at his face, curling onto his side to gaze at Filippo beside him.

Filippo was still asleep, sprawled out on the bed like a starfish, mouth open slightly as his chest rose and fell, eyelashes fluttering with some unknown dream. He looked so peaceful, Elia found himself thinking as he sighed.

For another minute, Elia watched Filippo sleep, trying to talk himself into getting up, getting the charade over with with Filippo’s mom. Once she was gone, everything would be back to normal, back to the way it usually was, back to the way Elia wished it wouldn’t be any more.

Resigned, Elia slid from the bed without waking Filippo, tugging down the too-small shirt Filippo had lent him and pulling on his jeans.

In the living room, the sky was barely lightening in the east, and none of the lights were on, though Elia heard someone rummaging around in the kitchen.

“You’re an early bird,” Filippo’s mom greeted him as Elia stood awkwardly in the doorway. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to say to her, so he just watched her boiling the water and grinding the beans for coffee. “Or is it just because I’m here?”

Elia paused, frowning slightly as she smiled and grabbed three cups from the cupboard.

“It’s fine, you know, you staying over. Filippo’s an adult, even though he doesn’t always act like it,” she said, shaking her head. She glanced at him. “He said you were his boyfriend, didn’t he?”

Elia nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I can’t remember him using that actual term before,” she said as she poured the coffee, looking thoughtful. “It was always just ‘a guy I’m seeing’ or ‘a friend’ who would be over all the time for a little while then not at all. He must really like you.”

“I don’t know,” Elia said, honestly for once, shoving back his hair, wishing he’d changed his shirt too as he tugged it down over his hips.

She smiled at him, the same warm smile Filippo had, though it didn’t give Elia butterflies like Filippo’s had lately.

“You seem like a catch, Elia,” she said simply, handing him a cup and sipping her own as she checked the time on her watch. “Filo’s very lucky to have found you.”

Elia didn’t reply, trying not to frown as he could only think how untrue that was. He and Filippo were nothing more than friends.

“Speaking of,” she said as she set her cup down on the counter. “He better get up or he’s going to miss seeing me off.”

“I’m up.” Filippo’s voice came from around the corner, and Elia jerked in surprise as he turned to Filippo behind him, eyes resting on Elia, but he pulled them away as he stepped up to the doorway. Filippo hadn’t bothered to pull on clothes like Elia, still yawning as he scrubbed a hand through his messy hair.

“Always the last up,” his mom said, shaking her head. “I have to get going or I’m going to miss my flight.”

She swept past Elia and Filippo to the living room, and Elia followed Filippo slowly, watching her gather her things, fussing with her coat for a moment before turning to Filippo and pulling him into a hug.

“I promise, next time I’ll text so you can at least pretend to clean up a bit,” she said, and Filippo sighed as she moved back and turned to Elia. “Elia, I’m glad you’re here.”

Elia was a bit surprised at her hug, forcing a smile as she grabbed her suitcase and turned the door handle.

“Be good, you two,” she just said as she left, and Elia heard Filippo’s exhale as the door shut behind her.

“That’s over,” he said, sounding almost relieved, gaze lingering on Elia, a frown at the edge of his lips, and he turned away finally, sniffing the air. “Did she make coffee?”

Yeah, Elia thought as Filippo headed off to the kitchen, heart sinking as he remained alone in the living room. It was over.

*

Elia didn’t know what he’d expected, if he’d thought that just because he realized he liked Filippo, something would actually happen. Of course it wouldn’t. Filippo didn’t see him that way. To Filippo, he was just Martino’s goofy friend who paid him $250 euros a month to sleep in Eleonora’s room and occasionally complain about the mess in the kitchen.

He wasn’t usually like this, Elia reflected as he sat on the edge of the fountain, waiting for Martino and Gio to join him after class. He wasn’t the one to mope around because someone didn’t like him. He wasn’t the type to feel bad because his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

But that didn’t explain why Elia felt like doing absolutely nothing, why he’d sat through his last two classes in a haze, not even bothering to listen to whatever the professors had been rambling on about.

“Hey.” Martino was the first there, and Elia looked up from his phone, scrolling aimlessly through Instagram, mostly as a useless distraction. “Nico’s going to meet us at the bar, if that’s okay.”

Elia just shrugged. “Whatever.”

“You’re in a good mood,” Martino said, pinching his cheek, and Elia slapped him away.

“I’m fine.”

Martino paused instead of teasing again, and Elia grimaced. He didn’t really want to talk about it, but he’d never been lucky.

“You sure?”

No, Elia wasn’t sure. It turned out he had a crush on his roommate—well, more than a crush, but the chances of anything happening were growing slimmer by the minute, and Elia dreaded the next time Filippo asked him for a favor.

“Filo’s mom came home the other day,” he said, and Martino slid up onto the fountain ledge too, dropping his bag on the concrete.

“Did she find out you’re living there?”

Elia paused. “In a manner of speaking. I had to pretend to be Filippo’s boyfriend again.”

Martino’s eyebrows went up as he nodded. “So is it that you lied to her that’s bothering you or that you didn’t want it to be a lie?”

“Marti.” Elia scowled, and Martino shrugged.

“Come on,” Martino said simply. “You live with him. You see him every day. You’ve made out. How many times have you pretended?”

“I don’t know,” Elia muttered, jerking his shoulders. Too many times. Too many times that he’d wished it was real.

Martino watched him closely, eyebrows furrowed now. “Sometimes, you pretend so long that you forget it’s not real, and you wish it was because it would be so much easier.”

“It wouldn’t be easier,” Elia said, annoyed, looking up at Martino. “You said it yourself you shouldn’t hook up with your roommate, and it doesn’t matter because Filippo doesn’t think of me like that.”

For a moment, Martino said nothing, and Elia sighed. Even if he did tell Filippo how he felt, he’d only be facing rejection and a lifetime of awkwardness as long as they lived together.

“How do you know?” Martino asked after a long minute, watching students pass on the path.

“What?”

“How do you know he doesn’t think of you like that?”

“Because he said so,” Elia said, shaking his head. “He said if it was real, he’d just screw it up.”

“Sounds to me like he’s thought about it,” Martino said instead, and Elia glanced at him, frowning. “Maybe you should talk to him before making up your mind.”

Elia scoffed. That was rich, coming from Martino.

“Like you _talked_ to Nico that night at the cabin? Or last year when you broke up?”

Martino glared in response. “I learned the hard way. Maybe you should stop being a dumbass and learn from my mistakes.”

Rolling his eyes, Elia didn’t reply, glad when Gio finally appeared in the distance. Elia wasn’t a dumbass and he was definitely smarter than Martino, he assured himself, but as Gio greeted him, he couldn’t help wondering if maybe Marti was right. Maybe he should just get it out. At least then he could move on. At least then, he’d know.

*

Elia had never been good at talking. Articulating feelings wasn’t something he enjoyed doing. He’d rather just hook up with someone a couple times and let things kind of figure themselves out. Martino would have called him an idiot, but Elia didn’t think Martino had much room to talk there.

This wasn’t about Martino, though, Elia thought as he looked up from his books spread out on the coffee table as the front door creaked open and Filippo stepped inside.

“If you’re not careful, someone’s going to think you care about school,” Filippo said as he flopped down next to Elia, pulling a textbook out from under him and tossing it with the rest.

Elia didn’t reply to that, watching Filippo instead.

He wasn’t sure when things had changed, when he’d stopped pretending to care about Filippo and actually started caring. It was messing everything up, though.

“Oh,” Filippo said after a minute, shaving his hair back. “Gia’s having another one of her parties next week if you want to go. I could casually tell her your favorite food if that would help.” He smiled easily, and Elia frowned.

Another night of pretending. Another night of Filippo’s hand on his back, casual kisses pressed to his cheeks, things that would never be real.

“No,” he said, surprising himself and Filippo, it seemed, as he blinked.

“Not interested?” he asked. “She said she was going to attempt a torte for dessert.”

Elia sighed, fingers antsy as he clamped them around a notebook. This was it. He had to say something. He couldn’t go on like this.

“I can’t pretend to be your boyfriend, Filo, not anymore.”

For a second, Filippo stared, then he looked away. “Oh, right. I don’t even know why I asked. Of course, you don’t have to. I just thought you had fun last time.”

“I did,” Elia admitted. “But I just, I don’t want to anymore.”

Filippo nodded slowly, a tight smile on his face as he turned to Elia. “Yeah, you definitely don’t have to. I have asked you way too many times already.”

“It’s not that—” Elia said, cutting himself off as he chewed on his bottom lip. Filippo just looked confused, sitting on the other end of the couch. He could feel unfamiliar nerves creeping up in his stomach, and he swallowed. God, he hated this. He hated feeling unsure, uneasy, out of control of the situation. “I shouldn’t even say this,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, forcing himself to take a breath. “I don’t want to ruin us living together, ‘cause I really like living here, with you, and I don’t want that to change, but I have to tell you something, and you’re probably not going to like it.”

Frowning, Filippo shifted closer, pushing Elia’s books to the floor. “Elia, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Fuck, this was it.

“I don’t want to pretend to be your boyfriend. I want to…” He swallowed, his throat going dry as Filippo watched him, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

The silence was deafening as Elia sat there, and Filippo didn’t move, didn’t react except to blink slowly. Elia was sure Filippo could hear how loud his own heartbeat was, thudding in his ears, terrified of what came next.

“You don’t want that,” Filippo said finally, and it wasn’t what Elia had expected, but it wasn’t what he’d hoped either.

“I think I do,” he said, confused, watching the way Filippo moved back with a sigh, not meeting his eyes.

“You don’t,” Filippo said again, a little firmer this time. “You think you do, but after a month or two of fucking around, things start to get messy and complicated and then you’re looking for a new apartment and I can’t see Marti anymore, and—”

“Wait,” Elia interrupted him, holding up a hand, and Filippo shut his mouth pointedly. “You’re breaking us up before you’ve even said if you liked me.”

Filippo’s eyes shot to him, a crease of worry to his brows, and Elia couldn’t believe it. He was right. Despite what Filippo had just said, he couldn’t help smiling. Filippo did like him.

“You do,” he said, the nerves breaking into excitement even as Filippo frowned. “You like me.”

Filippo looked away, hands tight over his knees, chewing on his bottom lip, rolling his eyes at himself. “Of course I like you, Elia,” he said finally, and Elia felt his heart jump in his chest. “You’re funny and cute and you keep the place clean.” He paused, barely smiling at his joke, smile falling a second later. “But it doesn’t change anything. I know what’s going to happen.”

“No, you don’t,” Elia said, blunt, staring at Filippo. This wasn’t at all how he’d pictured this going. Somehow, he’d pictured Filippo letting him down easy, saying it was nice he had a crush, but he didn’t feel the same, that they would try to be friends. He hadn’t picture arguing with Filippo about whether or not they wanted the same things.

But it seemed exactly right even as Filippo rolled his eyes.

“Of course I do,” he scoffed. “You’ve pretended to be my boyfriend enough times to know how shocked people are to hear it. It’s because it doesn’t happen. It’s fun for a while and then there’s always a reason it doesn’t work out. When I asked you to move in, I thought it would be nice to have someone around, someone I wouldn’t fuck things up with. I didn’t expect you to be so charming and cute, and you went along with my stupid ideas without even questioning…” He shook his head as he sighed, like all of it was stupid. Like he’d made a mistake. But all Elia wanted to do was jump into Filippo’s lap and tell him how stupid that was, how stupid it was to give up before they’d even made any mistakes.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Elia demanded, staring at Filippo. “Don’t you want to go to those stupid couples-only parties and wake up with me in your bed every day? Don’t you want to make out with me at a club just because you can? Don’t you want someone to to be around? ‘Cause I want to.”

It was bolder than he’d expected to be, but the words just came out, and Elia didn’t want to take them back. He felt a rush of hope as Filippo laughed, just barely.

“You’re so…”

“Right?” Elia asked, scooting over on the couch, catching the way Filippo tried hard not to smile, and he knew he was right. He hadn’t spent the past month imagining it, the way Filippo looked at him, how easily Filippo touched him on their fake dates, the genuine way Filippo laughed at the stupid things he said.

“Since when do you like me anyway?” Filippo asked, sounding almost doubtful. “I thought it was all pretend.”

“Probably since that second time you kissed me in the club,” Elia admitted, smiling when Filippo met his gaze. “You’re damn good at it. It doesn’t hurt that you’re cute and charming too.”

Filippo laughed, once. “When you agreed to go to Gia’s party, spend a whole night pretending for my sake, I knew I was fucked then.”

“Really?” Elia asked, curious. Filippo hadn’t kissed him that whole night, had spent the whole time saving Elia from his friends, keeping him close and safe.

“Yeah,” Filippo said, but his smile faded away the longer he looked at Elia. “Look, Elia, it’s just not a good idea.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know that,” Elia said, a sudden rush of warmth in his chest as Filippo shot him an unimpressed look, the same look he always gave Elia when Elia wanted to watch some dumb action movie. It made Elia smile, something so familiar. Maybe they were both stupid. It wouldn’t be the first time. “How about you let us fuck it all up before you make up your mind?”

“Elia,” Filippo said, and Elia didn’t let him finish, pushing his way into Filippo’s space, hands on his shoulders, heart beating against his throat. He was going to get what he wanted this time, and it wasn’t going to be some performative kiss for other people, sleeping in the same bed with Filippo and not even getting to touch him.

“You don’t get to pretend to be the mature one ‘cause you’re older. You’re just as stupid as me, and I want to be with you. I think you should kiss me right now and stop thinking about what might or might not happen in some unformed future. Yeah, we might screw it up, and I might have to sleep on Marti and Nico’s couch for a few weeks, but I think whatever comes before that would be worth it.”

Filippo shook his head slowly, but his hands made their way to Elia’s waist anyway, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “This isn’t going to end well.”

“We’ll see about that,” Elia said, smiling as he leaned in to kiss Filippo. It was different, without an audience, no one to pretend for, just him and Filippo pressed together on the couch, smiling into the kiss.

“You’ve gotten so much better at that,” Filippo murmured as Elia sighed, content, laughing at Filippo.

“We’ve got plenty of time for you to teach me more,” he assured him, and even though Filippo might be right about how this would end, Elia was pretty sure he’d enjoy the journey, no matter where it took them. Maybe he’d even prove Filippo completely wrong, and that would be okay by him.

*

FIN.


End file.
